


The infirmary

by XxJearminxX



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blind Character, Blindness, Blood, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Disability, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Injury, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Physical Disability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, They have morphine because I said so, They love each other so much, and Ivs, slight medical liberty, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-12 21:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxJearminxX/pseuds/XxJearminxX
Summary: Jean’s entire squad was ambushed by Titans outside the walls. He and Armin the only survivors. As he lay in the infirmary, legs now useless, he can't help but thank whatever god is up there that he isn't alone; no matter how selfish it is. Yes, as long as Armin's here too, he's not alone. (Jearmin)Somewhat inspired by the fic “The Cost of Ones Malice” by Silver_shortage_in_Markarth





	1. Morphine’s a hell of a drug

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Cost of One's Malice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15082481) by [Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth/pseuds/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth). 



> Jean’s injuries were inspired by “The cost of ones malice” as said in the summary. It’s an amazing fanfic, and if you haven’t read it, you all totally should!
> 
> Also, special thanks to my beta reader KuroiDenki on FF.net for beta reading this for me

A/N: I want to thank KuroiDenki for beta-Ing this chapter. They honestly made this so much better haha. This is the setup chapter, future ones will be much longer.

 

Jean's vision is blurry.

He can't see much, nor can he hear very well. Everything sounds muffled, as if he has cotton in his ears. He faintly realizes he's moving; he can feel the bumps of a carriage rolling over the bumpy dirt roads, but not much else. He tries to move his numb limbs, starting with his finger tips. He manages to wiggle them a bit but the effort makes him feel tired…what was going on? 

"Legs" is the first word Jean is able to make out. The voice is familiar, but he can't for the life of him place who it belongs to. He jolts as the carriage comes to a sudden stop, jumping as he feels whatever he is lying on lift him up and out of the cart. Where was he going?

"...his entire squad, commander." Jean can just make out the muffled voice from earlier. "...only two survivors, both injured." 

So he was hurt? Jean wonders, still trying to make sense of what was happening. He didn't feel hurt though? And he couldn't remember anything either. What had happened? Who was the other person that was hurt? His mind continued to wonder as he was moved from the hard platform that was used to carry him in to what he assumed was a bed. 

Blinking once more, he was able to make out bright lights against a white ceiling. He could hear the voice from earlier, "we're going to have to rebreak them." 

Rebreak what? Jean felt two sets of hands grab his wrists, and another push down on his chest. Two fingers coaxed his mouth open, a cloth was placed in between his teeth. Confused, Jean began to move, pulling against the hands. He felt two more pairs of hands rest softly on his legs-

White hot pain shot through Jean Kirchstien’s entire being; he jerked against the human restraints, but was held firmly in place. His screams echoed off the walls as he felt the two people at the foot of his bed snapping the bones in his legs. Black spots clouded his vision as tears streamed down his face, and he desperately tried to get away from the excruciating pain coursing through him. Finally, as the pain became too much, his body had mercy and he passed out.

——

When Jean awoke the second time, everything was much clearer. He recognized the white washed walls of the survey corps infirmary almost immediately. Judging by the casts on both legs, he had been injured on the last expedition. With a grimace, Jean noticed that his right cast went up to his thigh while the left only met his knee. What had he done to break his legs like that? He didn't remember much of what happened; only flashes of titans and dead bodies littering the field came to mind. 

Yawning, Jean lay flat against the pillow. He played with the IV that was dripping morphine into his system as he tried his best to remember more of what had transpired outside the walls. 

"Jean?..." 

Jean startled in surprise, whipping his head to the left at the sound of his name, weak on the speaker’s lips. His heart almost stopped at what he was met with.

Armin Arlert lied in the bed on Jean’s left, also hooked up to an IV. His blonde hair was matted, evident he had been in the infirmary for a while. His pale skin looked washed out against the white interior of the med bay. His lips were chapped, and his uniform had been replaced by a simple blue T-shirt and grey sweatpants. An open book sat in his lap. A half eaten piece of bread and an untouched bowl of soup lay on the small table to his left. Armin's snow white skin was disrupted on the right side of his face by several angry red gashes. Some were short, less than a few centimeters long, while others went from his forehead past the collar of his shirt. Many of the gashes weren't very wide, but there were a few Jean thought were easily a few inches long. The scariest, however, was the thick scar running through his right eye; instead of its usual brilliant blue the damaged eye appeared cloudy and unfocused, as if it was looking right through him. 

 

"Armin?..." Jean answered back, coughing as his scratchy voice caught in his throat. 

And then the memories came rushing back. A hoard of abnormals had surprised their wing; they were on them before anyone knew how to react. Their squad leader had just finished ordering them not to engage when he was nabbed and eaten before their eyes. Jean had grabbed his gear then, jumping into the air to try and kill a few of these titans when Armin was thrown off his horse. Jean lost sight of the blonde when another hoard of titans emerged from beyond the horizon.

The blood curdling screams of his comrades distracted Jean, and before he knew it a titan had grabbed his gear, lifting him up to its gaping mouth. In a panic, Jean had sawed through the line of his grapple, plummeting towards the ground, not being able to turn his body in time and breaking his legs. 

 

What the hell had happened to Armin though? A sick feeling began to rise in Jean’s stomach as he focused on Armin’s injured eye. Something wasn’t right about how dull it seemed to be compared to the left one. 

Blinking the memories away, Jean continued to stare at Armin's scarred face, watching the blonde’s lips move as no sound came out. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" He muttered, feeling hot. Did he have a fever?

"I asked how you were feeling." Armin repeated, cocking his head. "You've been out for a few days."

A few days? Had it really been that long? "Oh... yeah, I'm fine. Morphine’s a hell of a drug." Jean joked weakly, sitting up and resting against the metal headboard of the infirmaries bed. Just sitting up seemed to take a lot out of the brunette. He felt weak.

 

Armin laughed quietly, the sound bringing a soft smile to Jean’s face. "I'll say." Armin lazily lifted up his arm sporting the IV and set the book from his lap aside. Jean noticed Armin’s right hand had been wrapped in gauze. Had his entire right half been injured?

Would it be rude to ask about his eye? Jean couldn’t help but wonder to himself. Deciding to be true to his blunt nature, Jean finally started to ask, “How about you?... can you still?-"

"See? No." Armin mumbled, referring to his right eye. Jean watched as he began to fidget with the hem of the off-white hospital blanket he’d pushed to the side of the bed. "Hanji tried her best, but its too damaged. The best she could do was close the gash that ran through it.”

Jean bit his lip, feeling awkward He’d answered so quickly, cut him off before he’d even finished asking the question. The brunette wondered how many times he’d been asked about his vision in the last few days. Would people ask him about his injuries as well? He surely hoped not.

The silence was thick until Armin broke it, asking if the brunette wanted him to call a nurse to bring him some dinner. Jean nodded, tapping his fingers on the metal bed rails as he tried to think of something else to say.

"I'm surprised Yeager and Mikasa aren't here." He finally said, deciding that was a good conversation starter. After all, it was strange the two weren’t at his side. “I’d of figured Yeager would be in the bed with you.” He tried to joke, doing his best to keep eye contact and not only focus on the scarred flesh.

 

Armin didn’t laugh, disappointing Jean. "Oh, they were here a lot the first two days but Eren had to eventually go back to training with Hanji, and Mikasa was needed to run drills with the others." 

"Oh, that makes sense." The silence returned. The nurse brought Jean the same soup and bread Armin still had lying on his bedside table. The room was quiet except for the scraping of Jean’s spoon on the bowl. Jean almost wished he was still unconscious.

As the silence only got thicker, and Armin quietly frowned, Jean couldn't help but think that this was going to be one long recovery.


	2. Please Keep Breathing

Jean felt his mother grip his hand tight as Hanji gave them the solemn news. He bit his lip, refusing eye contact with anyone in the room. He felt angry tears well up in his eyes, but furiously blinked them away before anyone could notice. Jean caught site of Armin frantically burying his face in his book, obviously trying not to intrude.

Jean appreciated his efforts.

“...he’ll be able to walk though, correct?” Jean’s mother asked Hanji, frantically searching the Auburn haired woman’s face for answers.

“Correct, but he’ll have a bad limp.” Hanji confirmed, a look of remorse on her face. “He’ll need to stay here until his legs are healed, once he’s on his feet we can discuss his position in the Corps. It’s possible we could find him a job at base alongside Armin.” She explained, gesturing to the only other patient in the room.

“You mean there’s a chance I can stay?” Jean perked up, “what would I do?”

“Ah, well, Armin’s going to help us with strategizing here at base… you’re a pretty quick thinker yourself, So there’s a chance Erwin would allow you to join the team.” Hanji explained thoughtfully.

Nodding, Jean felt himself relax a bit. Hanji continued explaining the physical therapy process to his mother, and before long, she’s being ushered to sign consent forms in Hanji’s office. When the door shuts, and the two women are gone, the Infirmary is left in a state of silence. Yawning, Jean began to nod off until he was startled awake by Armin.

“I’m sorry about your legs.” Armin muttered, turning to face the brunette. The gashes on his body were beginning to scar, leaving rough pink lines instead of the angry red ones. His wrist was no longer bandaged, but his right eye was as unfocused as ever.

“I’m sorry about your eye.” Jean responded softly, “guess we’re both permanently damaged.”

“Heh… yeah, I guess so,” Armin smiled at him softly, brushing blonde bangs out of his face. Jean felt his cheeks begin to heat up, but chalked it up to a slight fever. After all, what else could it be?

Shaking his head to bury the thoughts, Jean reached over to grab a tin of cookies his mother had brought him. Popping the lid, he couldn’t help but smile as the smell of his mothers homemade chocolate chip cookies wafted through the air. He took one out, and was about to return the tin to his bedside table when he noticed Armin looking at him. “What?” He questioned, taking a bite of the cookie.

Armin’s face went red as he quickly looked away. “Sorry! I just… “ he trailed off, face going redder as Jean continued to stare.

“You just what?”

Armin mumbled something inaudible, head now in his hands. Raising an eyebrow, Jean asked him to repeat himself, reaching for another cookie as he awaited an answer.

“I-I… just, haven’t had a cookie in a long time.” The petite male choked out, head still in his hands, the parts of his face visible to Jean beet red.

“Well, do you want one?” Jean asked, grabbing a cookie from the bin and holding it out for him.

“Huh?...”

“Do you want a cookie?” Jean reiterated, smiling amusedly. Shyly, Armin nodded, removing his hands from his face as he slowly got up to walk to Jean’s bed. When he reached it, he hesitated.

“You’re sure?...”

“Just take the damn cookie, Arlert.” Jean grinned, shoving it into small hands. Jean snickered at the squeak Armin emits, face still impossibly red as he choked out an embarrassed “thank you” before shuffling back to his own bed. Armin held the dessert with both hands, nibbling at it softly. He avoided eye contact with Jean. Said brunette couldn’t help but grin at how cute the display was.

Wait, cute? Confused by his own thoughts, Jean shook his head and put the cookie tin back into the nightstands drawer. Jean was just about to ask Armin something when the door burst open.

“Armin!”

It was Eren Yeager.

Groaning, Jean pulled his pillow over his head, already getting a headache from Eren’s loud voice. Seriously, how did Armin put up with this guy?

Seemingly noticing Jean’s groan, Eren turned to him. “Ugh, I guess horse-face finally woke up.” He muttered, taking a seat on Armin’s bed. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that everyday. You must be going crazy, maybe you can request to get out of here early and go back to the rooms with me. I’d look after ya good, and you wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore than you already do.”

Armin glared at Eren, voice low in a warning tone. “He’s hurt too you know. Show some compassion.”

Eren let out a “Hmph” as he crossed his arms, glaring at the wall, obviously not to pleased with Armin sticking up for Jean. “Whatever.”

Jean begins to retort, pissed over Eren’s words, when Armin cut in to defuse the situation.

“He’s a nice guy, Eren. Just because you two have your issues doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with him.” Armin’s defends, surprising both boys. Jean couldn’t help but grin as he peaked at Armin from underneath the pillow. His grin only widening when Armin smiled back, a happy gleam in his eye.

Eren’s growing annoyance was evident, which made Jean even happier. The brunette huffed through his nose angrily, before he finally responded.

“Man, these pain meds must be really strong to make you think Horse-face is good company.” Eren laughed bitterly, trying to play off the situation. He lays down next to Armin, who just rolled his eyes, calling him mean, before leaning into the titan-shifters embrace.

For whatever reason, the action sent a weird feeling through Jean’s being. He felt strange, almost… uncomfortable? Or maybe angry was a better word… whatever it was, He hadn’t realized how hard he’d began gripping his pillow until Armin spoke to him again, bringing him out of his stupor. “Are you okay, Jean?”

Eren glared, “he’s just jealous because he wants to be the one in bed with you. Dirty pervert.” He muttered in annoyance, casting a very dirty look at Jean. Jean couldn’t tell if Eren was serious or just trying to start a fight. Either way, Jean was annoyed.

Armin flushed, slightly smacking Eren’s arm. His voice a higher pitch than normal. He was clearly embarrassed. “Don’t make jokes like that. It’s rude and n-not true.”

Jean doesn’t miss the stutter.

“Who said I was joking?” Eren bit back, clearly miffed.

Armin sat up, pulling out of Eren’s embrace as he once again began to lecture him about being nicer to Jean. Eren simply glowered, refusing eye contact with either boy.

Jean felt hot again as he watched the interaction, the feeling from earlier replaced by what Jean quickly recognized as anger, a very intense, upsetting anger that settled in the pit of his stomach. As he continued to watch the two best friends squabble, the feeling only grew. Finally looking away, he felt his face heating up once more. His fingers gripped the bed sheets tightly in an attempt to hold his tongue.

“Shut up Yeager.” He Growled, casting a dirty glance at the male. Both boys stared each other down. Armin sighed as Jean yanked the pillow back over his head in an attempt to fall back asleep, all the while Eren continued to belittle him loudly in the background. Armin continued to defend the two toned male to his best friend, even though Eren clearly had his mind set.

Jean couldn’t wait for Eren to leave.

——————————————————————-

_The first thing Jean noticed was the screaming._

__

_loud, piercing sounds shooting through the open field. All different pitches, all from different directions. The sounds bounced around in his skull, torturing his mind as he was forced to endure the noise of such suffering._

__

_The second thing he noticed was the sky. How the clouds drifted lazily in the vast, endless blue. The way the sun shined brightly, blindingly so. A squawking flock of birds flew overhead, seemingly obvious to the massacre below them._

__

_Oh how Jean longed for such ignorance._

__

_The third thing Jean noticed was the blood. It was everywhere, the grass, the bodies, the discarded gear…_

__

_Blonde hair._

__

_The fourth thing he noticed was Armin, motionless on the ground. Blonde hair matted with blood, his right wrist bent unnaturally. His gear was extremely damaged, blades seemingly snapped into pieces. Jean couldn’t tell if he was even still breathing. Blood was everywhere, staining his white pants a sickly red. A sickly sharp contrast against his pale skin. His chest didn’t seem to be moving._

__

_Please still be breathing._

__

_Please. I can’t be the only one left. Please Armin, please keep breathing._

__

_Please._

__

_In the distance, he could hear yelling. Not the horrid shriek of a soldier approaching death, but one of authority._

__

_“Check for survivors!”_

__

_Jean weakly lifted his head, trying his best to show any sign of life. He heard the sound of a horse's hooves coming closure, the wheels of a cart not far behind. He’s being lifted, a horrible surge of pain caused him to cry out. Black spots clouded his vision. He’d lose consciousness soon. But even with the world going black, and voices muffling, he heard four words crystal clear;_

__

_“Arlert’s still breathing sir!”_

__

_He’s still breathing._

—————————————

Jean awoke in a cold sweat, heart beating out his chest because of the memory. Flashes of his fellow squad mates hit him as if he’d just now realized he and Armin were the only survivors.

He and Armin were the only survivors.

_He and Armin were the only survivors._

Jean leaned over the bed rails, dispelling the contents from his stomach onto the infirmary's floor. His mind raced as he finally came to terms with what had truly happened. His entire squad, as well as most of the right wing, had been eradicated. He and Armin were the only survivors from their squad, he was never going to walk properly again. Armin’s partially blind, they’ll both have to deal with these disabilities for the rest of their lives-

Jean’s body had resorted to dry heaving. Tears welled in his eyes at the burning sensation in his throat and nose as he gripped the bed rails. He’s shaking, breathing heavily as he panicked. He felt hot, too hot, yet cold at the same time. A sob choked it’s way out of his throat in between gags as the gravity of the situation settled in him.

I’ll never walk properly again.

The heaving slowly subsided as he began to sob. His sweaty forehead rested against the cool metal of the bed rails. Jean gripped his short locks tightly and pulled, letting out a muffled scream into his forearm as he did.

Jean jerked when two skinny arms gently wrapped around his twisted torso, but relaxed when he heard Armin’s voice. The blonde began whispering soft words of comfort into his ear. He sits up properly, shifting so Armin’s hugging him from the side, still whispering to him.

“I went through this too. It just sort of hits out of nowhere. It’ll pass.”

Wrapping his arms around Armin, Jean buried his face in his hair. The sobs still wracking his larger frame. “I won’t be able to walk properly anymore.” He whispers out, voice catching.

“I know.” Armin’s voice sounded thick with emotion, “it’s hard to accept. But you will, eventually.”

“Have you accepted that you won’t be able see normally?” Jean wondered, voice slightly muffled by Armin’s hair.

Armin sighed, rubbing Jean’s back in an attempt to calm and soothe the brunette. “Not fully. I had my breakdown already, before you woke up. Just sorta hit me out of nowhere like yours did. I’ll come to accept it fully in time, you will too.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Jean leaned into the blondes light touches. He felt much better hearing that Armin, too, had broken down. It made him feel less alone. “How’d you get through your breakdown?”

“Eren and Mikasa. They were here when it happened, one minute I was fine, eating dinner, the next I was just crying about how I’d never be the same.” Armin explained, continuing to try and soothe Jean’s worries. “I mean, it’s normal. We have life altering injuries, and couple that with the survivors guilt…”

Jean shivered as the images of his dead comrades once again flashed through his brain. Their piercing screams made his ears ring, red blood stained the ground, Armin’s motionless body-

“Jean, are you okay?”

Jean squeezed his eyes shut, gripping onto Armin to ground himself as the memories flooded his mind once more. Sighing shakily, he nuzzled Armin’s hair in a search of comfort. “Y-Yeah… Sorry.” He muttered, pulling Armin closure.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Armin asked, pulling away to look into Jean’s hazel eyes.

“What?”

“Do you want me to lie in bed with you until you fall asleep?” Armin repeated, concern laced in his voice. “You seem reluctant to let me go, I think it would help you.”

Jean felt his face heat up, refusing eye contact. “A-ah, you don’t have too… I just… “

“Jean, c’mon.” Armin started. “I want to help you.”

Biting his lip, Jean agreed awkwardly, still refusing eye contact. He lays down, face a furious red. Armin lays down next to him, being careful of Jean’s legs. The blonde smiles at him softly, his left eye full of warmth.

“Is there anything I can do to comfort you?” Armin asked, warm breath hitting his cheek.

“Let me play with your hair.” Jean blurted out without a thought. His eyes wide as Armin’s face began to redden. The embarrassment slowly began consuming Jean’s very being.

“U-uh… okay.” Armin’s beet red now, he turned over so that he’d be facing away from Jean. His blonde hair now at the brunettes disposal.

Mentally slapping himself, Jean only stared at the blonde locks for a while, trying to consider if he should actually proceed with his request. Eventually, his curiosity won over his mortification and he lifted a shaky hand to the blonde tresses.

Armin’s hair was soft. It reminded Jean of the silk tablecloth his mother had gotten as a wedding gift. Sighing in content, Jean Softly ran his fingers through Armin’s hair, said boy letting out a hum of satisfaction.

Jean felt himself begin to relax as he began to braid a random strand, biting his lip as he tried his best not to hurt the blonde.

“Where’d you learn how to braid?” Armin whispered, not wanting to ruin the peaceful mood that had finally settled in the infirmary.

“I have younger cousins.” Jean whispered back. He finished the loose braid and began another as he continued speaking. “Used to make me be apart of their “braiding trains.””

“Braiding trains?”

“Yeah, its where girls sit in a line or a circle and brains each other’s hair. I always say in the back of the line.”

Armin giggled, “The mental image of that is ridiculous.”

Jean rolled his eyes as he started on a French braid. “I’ll have you know, I’m an awesome braider, Cindy and Sarah used to always fight over who’d get their hair braided by me.” He joked, smile dawning on his face.

“I didn’t realize you were such a hot shot, what an honor it is to have my hair braided by the king.”

Jean snorted. “It truly is an honor, you brought me out of my six year retirement. Sarah and Cindy would kill to be in your shoes.”

Armin giggled, “six years, huh? Imagine all the braid trains you missed out on.”

“Psh, it’s the braid train that put me into retirement. Those two fight like cats and dogs over me and my skills. My blessing had become a curse.”

Armin rolls his eyes and laughs aloud this time, quickly covering his mouth. Jean, also laughing, shushed him. “I’m sorry… just… t-the thought of two girls fighting over which one gets their hair braided by you is really funny for some reason…”

“Hey! My braiding skills are no laughing matter.” Jean huffed, trying his best to keep from laughing more. He undid a braid before starting on another. Armin continued laughing, albeit much quieter this time.

“I should tell Eren about this… “

“No. He’d never let me hear the end of it. Probably make some joke about needing to braid my horse mane or some shit.” Jean huffed, pulling Armin’s hair in a ponytail, before letting it fall down again.

“No… he wouldn’t. I’d make sure of it by telling everyone his secrets.”

Jean raises an eyebrow. “What kinda secrets?”

“Like I’d tell you. His secrets don’t get exposed unless he makes fun of you for knowing how to braid.” Armin laughed, grin evident in his voice.

“He calls me horse face though, I feel like that’s warranted one secret.”

“That doesn’t count, you call him Suicidal Bastard.”

Jean huffed, once again going back to running his fingers through soft blonde hair. He let out a yawn as the conversation died down to a comfortable silence, the only sound is the slight ruffle of the sheets as Armin shifts into a more comfortable position.

Yawning, Jean moved to simply running a few stray locks through his fingers, the silkiness reminding him of better times. He smiled tiredly as the image of his mothers tablecloth once again came to mind, as well as memories of him and his cousins notorious braid trains. The memories sent his body into a state of calm he hadn’t felt since trainee days.

Jean yawned once more, strands still lazily running through his fingers as hazel eyes focused on the slight rise and fall of Armin’s chest. It had slowed, indicating the blonde had fallen asleep. Jean found himself counting each breath Armin takes, almost like counting sheep. One, two, three…

As Jean began to fall asleep, he can’t help but smile at the boy next to him. What would of happened if Armin had died out there? Would he still be panicking? Would he have gone stir crazy? As he continued to watch the boys chest rise and fall, he shook the questions from his mind. None of that mattered now. Armin was here, keeping him sane.

Please keep breathing.

_And he did._

 


	3. Justification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of all the personal turmoil, Jean takes out his anger on Armin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the end makes since, it’s an internal struggle of Jean recognizing what he’s doing is shitty, but still trying to justify it in his mind.

Screaming.

They won’t stop screaming. His comrades, fellow soldiers, they won’t stop screaming. They can’t stop screaming. How could they? They were being ripped apart, limb by limb. Organs hanging from Titans mouths, limbs littering the ground, blood soaking through the grass, it was chaos. The orchestra of pained screaming echoed through the endless plains.

They won’t stop.

They _can’t_ stop.

Please make it stop-

* * *

 

  
Jean awoke with a start, bedsheets soaked through with sweat. His heart felt as if it were beating out of his chest, and he can’t catch his breath. He’s freaking out, eyes darting around the room as he panicked. Suddenly he felt two small hands pressing hard against his shoulders. Jean tried to fight them, he needed them off, he can’t breath. The screaming of Jean’s squad still echoing in his ears as he fought against the hands trying to restrain him.

“Get off!” Jean choked, a sob making its way out of his throat. “Please, Please get off me!”

“Jean, you have to calm down!” Armin yelled from above, straddling Jean, trying to calm him down. “I need you to calm down, you’re going to hurt yourself more!”

“Get off! Get off! Get off!” The sobbing is much more apparent now. Jean’s cheeks stained with tears as he fights against Armin. The images of his dead squad mates flashing through his fearful mind, one dead body after the other, Armin’s bloody hair, but still, the most prominent thing is the screaming. It won’t stop, it had to stop, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Make it stop!” Another sob forced it’s way out of Jean’s mouth as his body began to weaken from the strain. “Please… p-please make it stop…”

Taking a deep breath, Armin released Jean’s arms from his hold and lied down next to him. With a tearful smile, he wrapped his petite arms around Jean’s torso and squeezed. Jean continued to sob, holding onto Armin for dear life as he began to beg. “M-make it stop, A-Armin… please just make it f-fucking stop…”

“Okay… Okay, Jean… I’ll make it stop…” Armin whispered, holding back his own sobs. “I’ll make it stop… I promise… I promise.” He says as he ran his fingers through Jean’s short brown hair. He hugs the brunette as hard as he can, trying to calm him down.

“I promise.”

* * *

 

  
Jean awoke the second time that morning to the smell of home. Lavender wafts through the air as the soft pitter patter of the shower from the infirmary rooms bathroom greets Jean’s ears. With a soft sigh, Jean tries to will away the memories from earlier as he waits for Armin to come back into the room. He needed to thank him for earlier.

It isn’t long before the shower is turned off, and Armin walks back into the room with a mop of dripping blonde hair and a fresh pair of clothes. Armin smiles softly, leaning against the door frame.

That’s when Jean notices the eyepatch.

It’s green, like their cloaks, with the wings of freedom symbol printed on the front. Jean can’t help but stare, biting his lip. He can’t help the sadness that overcomes his being when he looks at him.

“Hey now, don’t look at me like that.” Armin teased softly, though Jean can’t help but notice the sadness in his eye. “You’re the one stuck in a hospital bed getting ready for a sponge bath.”

Jean made a face at that, forcing a sad laugh out of the blonde. “C’mon, it won’t be that bad. You never seemed to mind it when you were unconscious.”

“Ha ha,” Jean mocked, causing the blonde to truly laugh, which causes Jean to smile.

“How are you doing, by the way?” Armin asked, laughter being exchanged for a more serious tone. “You were pretty upset earlier… “

“Ah… yes, I was meaning to thank you for that… I-I didn’t mean to-“

“Stop it.” Armin interrupted, moving from the doorframe to sit on the side of Jean’s bed. “Stop… you can’t control over things like that. So don’t apologize to me, Jean.”

Jean swallowed back the tears beginning to burn behind his eyes. He’d been so emotional since the mission, he felt weak. He didn’t know if it was the painkillers or the severity of his injuries making him want to cry every second of every day, but he sure as hell knew that Armin being so nice and patient with him wasn’t helping. “Stop it.”

Jean knew he was being irrational, there was absolutely no reason to blow up at Armin like this. He just felt so angry. He was upset, he felt helpless, and Armin was there and available for him to abuse. It didn’t matter how much he had helped him, it didn’t matter that Armin had done absolutely nothing wrong. He was there, and Jean needed to take his anger out on something other than himself.

So, he took it out on the only other person in the room.

“What? Jean I didn’t-“

“Just stop it, Armin. Please.” Jean turns away, a lump in his throat. This wasn’t him, he wasn’t weak like this. Jean Kirschtein wasn’t weak. He was strong, he lead those soldiers into battle in Trost. He helped take down Annie, and he joined the goddamn survey corps for his dead best friend.

He knew he wasn’t weak, but he needed some justification for taking out all this anger on Armin other than stress relief. This was dumb, irrational, and he hated it, but he was hurting and the only thing making him feel better was to yell.

So he justified it.

Jean Kirchstien wasn’t weak.

He wasn’t weak, and he sure as hell didn’t need Armin Arlert trying to be his strength.

“What did I do? I was just trying too-“

“Shut up!”

Armin flinched, eyes widening at the outburst. He leaned forward, grabbing Jean’s hand trying to comfort him. “Jean I-“

Damn, why couldn’t Armin just make this easy? Why did he have to be so nice? Why couldn’t he lash out and yell back? Give Jean more reasons to justify his anger?

“Shut the fuck up!” Jean throws Armin’s hand off of him, refusing eye contact. “I said to shut up, Armin. I don’t need you.” He’s shaking now, out of anger? Sadness? Jean doesn’t know. All he knows is that he needs Armin to leave. Armin makes him feel weak and helpless, Armin makes him feel…

Armin makes him feel like how he felt when he found Marco.

Ah, yes, sweet justification.

“Shut the hell up.” Jean repeated, voice steadier than before. His breathing was calmer, but he was still refusing eye contact with the blonde. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the hurt look on Armin’s face, and for a split second, Jean Kirchstien felt like absolute shit. That’s what always happened, Armin made him feel weak and helpless. Armin Arlert pissed him off.

“I…” Armin’s voice trailed as he stared, not knowing what to do. He was frozen in place, with no idea of what he did to make Jean so angry. He was at a loss of words, scared to move in case of another outburst.

“Stop looking at me, Arlert.” Jean hissed, gripping the bed rails angrily. Tawny eyes refusing to meet brilliant blue. “Just… stop it.”

After a few moments of silence, Armin gives a curt nod, and heads back to his bed. He hesitates, looking over at the brunette in hope of him looking back, apologizing. After a few moments of Jean refusing to face him, Armin grips the curtain divider and pulls it between them.

And Jean feels weak.

  



End file.
